


Aida

by Theflyingqueenbea



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adventure, College of Winterhold - Freeform, Eventual Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Personal Canon, personal skyrim canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-05 09:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12791622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theflyingqueenbea/pseuds/Theflyingqueenbea
Summary: Aida grew up loving stories of heroes and adventure, but not once did she expect to be the main lead in any of them. However, as Aida is thrown into duties and obligations of a title she never thought she deserved, she begins to realize that the life of a hero that a nation depended on was never something she wanted to be.Through trials and tribulations, she encounters the greatest of friends and enemies, the wonders of love and burning of hatred, followed by a trail of regrets and abandoned dreams. It's a road of self discovery, observed by a mysterious outside force.





	Aida

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This story will NOT follow the canon Elder Scrolls timeline in Skyrim. I've extended the timeline, changed some event outcomes, and changed some characters to how I logically see fit for my own story and dragonborn. I don't believe my way is the correct way by any means, this is just how I have decided to tell the story :) 
> 
> I will note which major things I have changed to clear up any confusion as well :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :D

Ever since she could remember, reading had kept her mind at peace. Her father was simply a woodcutter so he couldn’t afford the lovely, golden embroidered books that the girls living in the palace were taught with. When they walked by with their purple and blue dresses, she wondered if the heroes in those books were even more extravagant than the plain, dirt and tea stained ones she had. Her father had told her that the golden ones they had at the shrines held tales of the greatest beings ever lived, but she wasn’t allowed to read them herself. Only the hooded priests were allowed to read such things to everyone.

Her father loved it when she read to him. She would sit on the steps of their small cabin and read chapter to chapter as he listened quietly while splitting wood with his axe. He would sometimes bring her songbooks from the cities and she’d sing him the words with the wrong tune, but he didn’t care, it was the story that mattered. He would always pick the books she read and she loved each and every one of them. The hero would discover great fortune or fall in love or find peace with themselves and it would make her smile, so her father smiled too.

When her father fell ill, she read to him at his bedside. She read him the tales of adventurers and dwarven cities long forgotten as he smiled and listened quietly. When he died she read to his grave until a woman named Lady Whitemane came and took her away to live with other parent-less children. From then on she never read aloud again and kept to herself. Her silence led to a vow and the words she read became her peace of mind. She soon realized why her father picked all her books. Real heroes always got their happy ending.

~

In grand total, Aida had escaped Lady Whitemane’s orphanage fifteen times, all which had resulted in failure. Her first seven attempts ended with her punishment of cleaning each and every room and replacing the linens. The other eight times ensured that she would never meet with a new potential family. Lady Whitemane would lock her in a closet where she could only listen to the new families or people looking for workers judge the line of orphaned children. Aida was the non-existent, 20th orphan in Lady Whitemane’s orphanage.

One by one, over the course of eight years, Aida watched as the kids she silently knew were picked off by random adults. Every year, however, at least a dozen new kids were introduced, only to be taken away as well. Lady Whitemane would sometimes send Aida a wicked smile as she mopped the floors while a little girl was being towed away by an old farming couple, never to be seen again.

Aida hated that woman. Lady Whitemane hated Aida, and she made it quite clear. She would allow the children to track a trail of mud inside after Aida had spent hours cleaning it. She would encourage the children to hide Aida’s books about the orphanage, in crude places like the chamber pot. She would mock Aida’s silence when she was caught by city guards and dragged back to the wretched place with her snide remark, “Any last words?” before whipping her knuckles till they were blue.  
On Aida’s 18th birthday, she was given the gift of freedom. Her bags were packed and for the first time ever, she escaped through the front door, this time forever. Lady Whitemane was waiting outside in the garden, rocking in her rocking chair and reading her book while the children around her gardened. As Aida walked by, she knew that Lady Whitemane would say those three mocking words, it wouldn’t be right if she didn’t.

As soon as Aida’s thin fingers gripped the white gate of Lady Whitemane’s orphanage, she hesitated, just in time for her farewell.  
“Any last words, Miss Aida?” Lady Whitemane said from behind her. Aida smiled, for the first time in a while. She then turned around to Lady Whitemane and looked her dead in the eye and said, “I hope you burn with this damned orphanage.”

The old woman’s grin immediately dropped from her face, just in time for Aida to see before she turned around. Her fingers gripped the gate and she finally pushed it open and stepped off the wretched property of Lady Whitemane’s orphanage. A breeze blew past her dark and unruly hair as she walked down the hill to the small village she would never plan to return to. Finally her feet met new ground that she could only dream of and for the first time in a long time, she laughed.

~

The young, pale, Nord woman spent two years traveling across her homeland, making a living through hunting. Her father had taught her to hunt at a young age, but her years at the orphanage took all that training and skill away. She picked up making traps, firing a bow, and tracking rather quickly and would occasionally sell her hunt at market places she’d come across. With the coin she gathered, she bought books wherever she could find them, never even reading the cover or knowing what it was about.

Her travels came to an end when she found herself in an old, broken city, with a long bridge and grand structure in the distance. Chickens pecked around in the snow as she walked through while old faces paid her no mind as she walked through.

Aida gripped her mammoth skin coat as a cold breeze blew past her and her boots trudged through the snow. A man sitting on the porch of the inn she walked up to stared off into the distance as if she was never there. Aida caught herself staring at the strange man, relieved that he was too busy ignoring her.

Warmth suddenly hugged her as she stepped into the fire-heated inn. It was practically empty, other than the innkeeper cleaning out cups and two snoring customers at the bar. Aida shut the door behind her and stomped off her snowy boots as she walked over to the bar and sat next to one of the sleeping drunks that reeked of ale.

The innkeeper glanced up at her new customer before putting the cup down and starting a new task. “What can I get you, sir?” she asked, her voice sleepy but awake.

“Bread and a room,” Aida stated simply with a scratchy throat, plopping her sack of stuff next to her and settling in. She pulled off her hood to shake off the snow only to look up and see the surprised face of the innkeeper woman.

“You’re a woman,” she stated, “I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Will you still serve me bread and a room?” Aida asked, pulling out her pouch of coins and placing them on the table, waiting for the woman’s reply with a blank face.

She took the pouch and mumbled another apology before heading off to her pantry. Aida sat there waiting, eyeing the man next to her. He let out a loud snore as her hand slipped into his coat and pulled out five coins, placing them back into her coat just in time for when the innkeeper came back, loaf of bread in hand.

“You can have the room right there,” she said, pointing to the door by the exit, “Mind the crumbs you drop. We just got rid of our skeeter problem last month.”

Aida said nothing as she gathered her stuff and made toward her room, shutting the door behind her. She threw her stuff on a chair next to the bed and proceeded to undress from all of her warm equipment. With her hunting and walking, she had gained a bit of muscle mass, but her petite figure was still boney and boyish. She was also starting a collection of scars, for silly things like cutting her finger on a fishing hook to slipping down a steep hill. The only interesting one she received was from a saber cat that she had woken up to after carelessly leaving her food out. The rugged bite mark scar on her shoulder was now a memory of the weeks she spent ill from the nasty infection. She kept it’s pelt, however.

The room was a bit colder than the inn’s interior. There must have been a draft coming from the cracks in the wood from the freezing ice on the outside. Aida wrapped an extra layer of fur around her and huddled under the covers in the lumpy and hard bed. It felt like feathers compared to the cold hard ground she was coming accustomed to sleeping on.

Still, she couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t the cold or the bed, that she could deal with. She sat up briefly from her bed, finding the fact that she broke her routine habit almost laughable. Rummaging through her pack, she pulled out the book she had gotten from the last city she had visited, which was months ago at this point. Aida had read the book dozens of time and not because it was good, but because it kept her company. The room didn’t feel so cold and the strange people in the old, broken city seemed even less relevant.

Aida awoke the next morning, hearing the bustle of people entering the inn. She dressed herself back into her gear and grabbed her pack, not expecting to return. There were more people this time, but it didn’t seem any more lively. The innkeeper was busily serving her customers breakfast, but looked up when she saw Aida come out of her room.

“Sleep well, miss?” she asked as Aida sat down at the bar.

Aida simply nodded as she took out the bread she had bought yesterday and took a bite.

“I’m curious, what brings you here to Winterhold?” she asked as she put a plate of meat in front of the man at the end of the bar, “I reckon you’re not here for the College, you don’t seem the type.”

Aida almost let out a laugh. “And what’s my type?”

“Well I mistook you for a man last night, didn’t I?” she noted.

“Fair point,” Aida stated. She glanced at the company in the inn, who all wore hoods over their heads and kept themselves turned away. While curious about their behavior, she didn’t care to ask. She didn’t plan on stay any longer.

“So?” the innkeeper asked, intrigued.

Aida glanced back at her. “Just to get out of the cold. I won’t be in your hair any longer, you need not worry.”

“Most citizens here don’t care for visitors, but you seem to be minding yourself,” the innkeeper said.

“Hm,” Aida replied, returning to her bread.

She sat in silence like the rest of the inn, feeling as if it was almost dangerous to break the quiet. Once she finished her bread, she got ready to gather her stuff when something crossed her mind.

“That building over that bridge,” Aida said to the innkeeper, “Is that where your ‘College’ is?”

The innkeeper nodded. “College of Winterhold. For those magic users and whatnot, all high and mighty in their little school while the rest of us are freezing our toes off down here.”

Aida didn’t reply, instead her mind began to wander off to the College of Winterhold. A school of magic? She’d heard of such a thing, but most Nords didn’t approve of such things. From what she had heard of magic from rumors in cities was that magic meant necromancy; summoners of the dead and creatures of snow and wood. Aida had been told stories of robed wizards and alchemists who played with Daedric princes ultimately leading to their doom. She wasn’t that foolish, but she couldn’t help but wonder the things they did in their little college.

Silently, Aida stood up then thanked the innkeeper for the food and the room and stepped back into the nipping cold. Her feet led her to continue down the path of the shambled city until she was at the foot of the College bridge. From where she was standing, she could see the peak of the building, stone and snow covered. She could picture the mages, hooded and surrounding a human sacrifice. Aida shuddered. Shrugging her pack back onto her shoulder, Aida continued out of Winterhold and down the mountain.

~

Aida had grown up in the mountains with her father, in a small shack in the Reach that loomed over the road below them. When her father was out cutting wood in the forest, Aida used to sit on the roof of their shack and watch the travelers go by. There were often bands of guards from the city of Markarth, nobles traveling between cities, a Khajiit caravan, or farmers towing their cows and produce. On rare occasions she spotted a wagon of prisoners being led by armored soldiers. Sometimes the soldiers were golden elves with poisonous stares. A hooded high elf caught Aida watching him and his prisoners one afternoon, earning herself an icy glare and causing her to retreat inside.

The guards that passed by her shack were often the same and usual party. There were two that Aida came to know– a young man and woman named Roreth and Lilette respectively that began to visit the little Nord girl on their trips between settlements. She recalled Roreth liked to pick flowers for Aida and could name each and every one of them because his father was a farmer. He told Aida jokes and could sketch pictures of the Skyrim scenery in his freetime. Lilette on the other hand was more serious and an excellent bowsman. While she didn’t seem to enjoy Roreth’s jokes, Lilette was kind and shared fresh fish and rabbit with Aida and her father that she caught herself.

Eventually, Roreth and Lilette let Aida tag along with them on their trips to Karthwasten and from there she got to spend much more time with them. Roreth drew pictures of Aida and Lilette while Lilette taught her to fish at the river below. Aida had put aside her love for books to spend time with them. She recalled her lonely hours while her father was out begin to vanish with the two guards.

When her father perished, the two guards hadn’t even hesitated to attempt to adopt Aida into their home in Markarth. That was until Lilette found out she was with child and the realization that caring for the four of them wouldn’t be possible with their poor salary. For the first time in her life, Aida felt betrayed as they sent for the old hag Lady Whitemane and she was taken away.

Her first day at the orphanage, she tore up the drawings Roreth made for her until she realized her mistake. She managed to save one, a picture of her and Lilette by the river below Karthwasten sitting patiently as they fished. As Aida shuddered on the ice miles away from Winterhold, she held the crumpled sketch in her fingers before folding it back up and storing it away in her pack.

Her mind began to wander from her memories as she tied her fishing pole together and tossed the lure into the icy waters. She then pulled out the book she had been reading at the inn and began to relax and read.

In the distance, she could hear crackling of lightning, followed by a series of shouts and screams. Aida wasn’t new to hearing trouble in the distance, but she had come to an agreement with herself that she would never go to investigate. She would not die for a stranger, or at least she would not _run_ to die for a stranger. It was best to ignore certain things.

The shocks and voices drew nearer and Aida soon realized that they weren’t screams of distress, but excitement. Laughter soon followed and finally curiosity came over Aida, deciding to finally look over her shoulder. There, walking on the path that lead to Winterhold were three hooded figures, laughing and singing away. Aida felt a brief and sudden feeling of relief that there was no real danger.

“–That’s not true! Faralda thinks I’m a great student! S-she just has a funny way of showing it,” a male voice said as the two other figures continued to laugh.  
“J’zargo senses self-doubt, milk drinker,” another voice slurred, clearly a Khajiit.

 _Great_ , Aida thought, irked, _three drunk idiots here to scare my lunch away_.

“Oh real mature,” the male retorted with annoyance, but slurring as well, “You know, I study way more than the two of you combined and I still get no respect ‘round here.”

A girly giggle echoed off the icy walls behind Aida. “You want to know why?”

The man sighed.

“It’s because you’re just a sweet little _milk drinker_ ,” the woman giggled, adding a few hiccups after.

The man groaned.

“Aw, but my dear Brelyna,” the Khajiit began, “Do you not think it is unfair that our human friend here does not even get a final chance to prove his worth?”

When it seemed like the three drunken figures were about to leave, their voices appeared to have stopped in their spots. Aida turned the page in her book while irritably tapping her fingers on her knee.

The girl squealed. “A test of worth!”

“No, no, no,” the man insisted, “What I need is a bed and to get back before we get into any stupid trouble.”

“But Onmund, my friend,” the Khajiit said, “J’zargo thought that Nords were all about ‘testing their worthiness! How else will Onmund ascend into Sovngrape?”

“Sovn _garde_ , and I have a better idea;” he corrected, “You… you two show me your worth and we can see if _I_ can best the _both_ of you.”

Aida was getting a bit curious again, but she also felt it was best if she found a new fishing spot. However, her curiosity won again and she was once again turning her head over her shoulder to observe the strangers. The three of them, still in matching robes, all stood facing each other with competitive looks on their faces.  
“Alright, Nord,” the Khajiit said, stepping away from the two and facing the ice, “Observe J’zargo.”

The Khajiit cracked his knuckles then stood in a battle stance. _What in Tamriel could he be doing?_ Aida pondered, ignoring the fish pulling at her pole. He then calmly pulled three scrolls of paper from his pouch and placed them on the ice. Stepping back from the scrolls and off the ice, he held his hands together then within seconds, the scrolls seemed to burn up into symbols where he placed them on the ice. Aida almost fell backwards in shock. What was that? What did he do? She debated whether or not to run, questioning if these three robed strangers were harmful or not. Had they even spotted her yet? Either they were the most unobservant drunks she’d seen or they had been ignoring her.

“Scrolls, yes, very impressive,” Onmund crossed his arms, “I can only wonder what is going to happen next.”

J’zargo ignored him and crossed his arms. He held up one of his hands and snapped his fingers, then one of the glowing symbols sparked up like lightning and shot a colorful light into the sky. The next one went off almost instantly, this time exploding into flames and setting off the final scroll, creating spikes of ice in the formation of a star.

As Brelyna clapped and Onmund crossed his arms, J’zargo bowed at his display. Aida on the other hand was just about ready to run and was packing her stuff back up.

“My turn!” The woman sang and stepped forward. She tapped her chin in thought, then turned to her left and said, “Oh!” running after a white hare bounding away. She stumbled and tripped, but she managed to catch it and bring back the squirming animal. With a few pets, she managed to somehow petrify the animal and place it down in front of her.

“I’ve been practicing this one,” she claimed, stepping back and aiming her hands at the hare. With a zap from her fingers, a cloud surrounded the hare. The three stood in anticipation, watching the clouded hare and moving away slowly. Finally, the smoke dispersed and standing there was still the hare. Brelyna sulked, dropping her shoulders.

Onmund patted her back. “If it makes you feel any better, you have made my part far easier.”

Suddenly, in an exploding flash, the hare began to grow and Aida was then frozen in her stance, as were the three strangers. The hare grew and grew, mutating and morphing until it stood over the three in the form of a white bear. With a mighty roar, it caused the three robed friends to scream in horror and run.

“Put up your wards!” Onmund yelled to them as the bear chased them. But whatever he told them to do, the other two didn’t seem to listen and darted in all sorts of directions.

“Scolls J’zargo! Use your scrolls!” Brelyna called to the Khajiit.

“J’zargo only brought those three!” He called back.

Onmund stood still for a second, seeming to try and concentrate on something in his hands. He pushed his hands forward toward the bear chasing Brelyna, but a flash of green managed to hit J’zargo instead, paralyzing him and making him fall over.

Without even realizing, Aida’s hands were already reaching for her weak hunting bow. Her hands fumbled to find an arrow, then she steadily aimed for the bear towering over the panicking Brelyna. The iron arrowhead pierced the bear’s shoulder, causing it to release a ferocious roar in pain. The bear stumbled back and swung its head around to search for its attacker, until its eyes landed on Aida, who was already aiming another arrow at it. She shot and missed as the bear bounded toward her as Aida struggled to get another arrow out. When she finally prepared another arrow, the bear was towering over her with its claws in the air. With her heart pounding, Aida released the next arrow into its head, spurting blood everywhere. The bear collapsed in front of her, breaking the ice at her feet.

 _Uh oh_ , Aida panicked as the ice broke beneath her feet and she stumbled backward. Her foot slipped and she fell backwards, slamming her head on a brick of ice. The pain rung through her head as she began to float out of consciousness and into the freezing waters below.

_What an ironic way to die._

 

_~_

 

Aida dreamed of her first night away from Lady Whitemane’s orphanage. It had been raining, to her luck, and she had been traveling for hours on the side of the road. Her cloak was soaked and her knuckles were white gripping her pack, yet she was smiling the whole way. Farmers rolled by on their carts, splashing the muddy water all over her and her expression still did not falter. It was the happiest she had been in eight years. She was free. She _flew_.

Her muddy feet drifted her up a familiar hill through a forest filled with nostalgia. There, in a clearing, lay a wet stone shadowing the mountain flowers that grew around it. Aida had wished that a spirit would be there waiting for her with a book in hand, but she knew that was also just fairytales. Besides, Aida’s father was a simple poor woodcutter living in the woods. He held no prophecy, no ancient writing was written on his tombstone. And Aida was no hero. No god had blessed her, no curse had been bestowed on her.

True, she was no champion or legend, but she was _free_.

 

_~_

 

 _“The Inn Onmund, the_ Inn _!”_

_“Are you mad? They’ll run us out with torches and pitchforks!”_

_“And the College will treat us any better after they find out what we have done?”_

_“The girl can be healed by Colette, the last thing we should be worrying about is a little detention.”_

_“He’s right– she saved me– us! It’s the least we can do.”_

_“...Fine, J’zargo sees your point.”_

_“H-hang in there, miss.”_

~ 

“Brelyna, help me change her bandage, will you?”

“Oh, uh, yes Enchantress. Of course.”

A pair of soft hands touched Aida’s pounding head. The Nord attempted to pry her eyes open, but the light pierced them as if she was looking directly into the sun. She winced at the light and at her throbbing as she raised her arm to guard her eyes.

The hands touching her instantly flinched and a girly voice let out a surprised, “Oh!”

“E-Enchantress Colette,” her voice trembled, “T-the girl, she’s awake.”

The sound, the light, the confusion, it was unbearable for Aida’s head. But slowly, she managed to open her eyes to meet two women standing over her. One, a dark elf, held a surprised look as the other, a Breton, held a pair of glowing hands over Aida.

“Do not be alarmed, child,” the Breton said in a soothing tone, “We are here to help.”

 _Here?_ Aida’s wide stare kept on the woman’s glowing hands. “Where am I?”

“College of Winterhold,” she answered simply, “You were hit fairly bad back there.”

The College of Winterhold? As in the College full of necromancing demons and skeleton summoning… healing Breton women? And young shy elves? Aida looked around the room she was in and was almost in awe. It was the nicest room she had ever been in, ever seen in fact. Dark polished wood, on the walls, floors, door, shelves, and even gold hinged chests. The bed she lay in was clearly not made in Skyrim, with golden embroidered hems and silky sheets. The shelves were stock-piled with books–lots of books, and held animal skulls and jewels for decoration. That innkeeper was right; those College folk were lucky bastards.

“How long have I been here?” Aida asked as her eyes still wandered the room.

“Almost two days,” the Breton answered for her again.

Memories of the events leading to her arrival at the College began to flood back. Those three drunken mages, the hare/bear attack, ice, head, blackness.

“And you have Brelyna and her foolish friends to thank for bringing you here. You’d be horker food if not for them,” the Breton added.

The elf, Brelyna, looked down bashfully and pretended to be busy with things on her nightstand.

“I, uh, thank you,” Aida mumbled, but her mind was instantly clicked to something else, “Where is my pack?”

Brelyna and the other woman looked at each other with a worried look that caused Aida’s gut to churn.

“It’s, well here, but…” the Breton walked over to the foot of the bed and opened a trunk at the end of it. She lugged Aida’s pack out and plopped it next to Aida in arm’s reach. Aida’s hands immediately dove to check its interior. She first pulled out clothes, which seemed to be unharmed and dry, even clean, then she realized what they were worried about when her hand met a wrinkled cover of her book. Aida pulled it out and flipped through the ink-stained pages.

“We tried to dry them, but…” Brelyna piped up, but trailed off, “magic can’t save the simple things.”

With a pounding heart, Aida reached for another object in her pack. It felt as if her heart stopped when he retrieved a water stained and smudged sketch from inside. She ran her thumb over what used to be the outside of that river from her memories.

“I-I can try and replace the things that can be replaced!” Brelyna tried, “I’m so sorry.”

Aida pursed her lips and crumbled the sketch, tossing everything back in the pack. “It’s fine. You needn’t worry anymore.” She swung her legs over to the side of the bed. “I’ll be out of your hair, thank you for your trouble–”

The Breton pushed Aida back into her bed with hardly any force. “Now, now dear, you still have some recovering to do. We can’t have you pulling those stitches out, now can we?”

 _They can’t be serious_ , she thought. “You’d let a stranger into your college?”

“Well, we already have now, haven’t we?” The healer asked, again with the rhetorical questions, “And a stranger noble enough to risk their life for another stranger is a stranger worth having at my college.”

Aida looked down. She could tell the woman was stubborn and as much as Aida liked to pretend to be herself, she turned out to be more flexible than intended.

“At least stay for dinner!” Brelyna butted in, “A-as our guest. You must be starving,” she said quieter.

Who could argue free food? Aida sighed and nodded and the other two women smiled victoriously.

“First, let’s get you patched up again,” the healer said, reaching for the bandages, “Oh, and I don’t believe we caught your name.”

In the two years she had been traveling throughout Skyrim, no one had asked for her name and she had never given it. “Aida,” she told them, the name new to her tongue again, “my name is Aida.”

The dining hall was grand, just as Aida had expected it to be. Several tables scattered across the enormous room, filled up with young and old people of all species. The students appeared to be sitting in the center of the room while the staff at the head of the room on higher levels. A dark elf sat upon the largest chair in the room, an emotionless stare going across the room.  No one seemed notice or care for Aida’s presence, which she approved greatly of, as they were all engrossed heavily in conversation and eating.

A khajiit sitting next to a nord at a table near Aida and Brelyna, was nudged by the nord man when he spotted Aida. They both arose from their seats and quickly darted toward Aida and Brelyna.

“You’re the one who saved us!” The Nord pointed out, “I just want to thank you so much and apologize– we were being foolish and–”

“–Well some of us were being foolish,” the Khajiit butted in, “J’zargo is always careful, but he is still thankful for your assistance.”

“Uh… you are welcome, I guess,” Aida said.

“Her name is Aida!” Brelyna perked up, “Oh and this Onmund and J’zargo. And I’m Brelyna, as you might have heard.”

 _I’m never leaving this place now_ , Aida thought to herself grimly, _All of our faces have names now. Their hospitality is never going to let me leave._

“Pleasure,” Aida mumbled. She’d never had this much interaction with someone in years. Normally it was just exchanging money for pelts or food along with a few farewell grunts, but these people wanted to feed her for free. She was assuming, at least.

“Come, our savior!” J’zargo grinned, “Eat with us!”

Aida was then being pushed to their small table and into an empty seat with slabs of roasted chicken in front of it. Her eyes widened and her stomach growled. She glanced up at the three students, who were watching her eagerly. Grabbing a fork, Aida began to dig in on the delicious food. The chicken was far better than any burnt chicken she’d made on the road or any tavern cooked meal doused in ale. Before she knew it, she was grabbing seconds and gulping down the mead.

“You’ve got quite the appetite, Lady Aida” Onmund commented.

“I’m no Lady,” she corrected him, though she found it quite odd he would call her such a title anyway. She hardly looked or acted or even smelled like a Lady, so no one had ever bothered thinking anything otherwise of her. “I’m a traveler,” she explained, “Or a hunter, whichever you prefer.”

“You’re a traveler?” Brelyna asked, intrigued, “Have you been all over Tamriel?”

“Hardly,” Aida answered after grabbing a drumstick, “I’ve never been past the borders of Skyrim. I just travel to sell.”

“Have you been to Solitude?” Onmund asked.

Aida nodded her head with a mouth full of chicken. “Once.”

Brelyna sighed sadly. “I’m sure it’s beautiful there. Here, it’s just snow and cold.”

“The snow and cold are minor setbacks when it comes to this place,” Aida said, looking up at the towering ceiling of glowing lights, “If I were you, I’d never want to leave.”

The three gave each other looks as Aida continued to eat like a slob.

“Well…” Onmund began.

“The college does welcome new members,” Brelyna finished.

“If you can get in,” J’zargo added.

Aida coughed on her food. Her eyes flickered up to them as they kept their stares on her. “That was a joke, right?”

“Of course not!” Brelyna exclaimed.

The corner’s of Aida’s mouth twitched and she sighed as she put down her second drumstick. “I… I thank you very much for your hospitality, but—”

Aida suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump. She turned her head over her shoulder to find the healer from before.

“The Arch-Mage wishes to speak with you, Miss Aida,” she said.

Who in Oblivion was the Arch-Mage? Aida looked back at the three students, who seemed as shocked and confused as she was.

“I— um—”

“You mustn’t keep him waiting, dear,” Colette insisted, awaiting for Aida to get up.

As she rose and followed Colette, her eyes suddenly darted to the head chair of the room where the dark elf once sat. He was no longer there.

~

_Her eyes were glued upon the sleeping infant in her arms, soundly breathing. Its tiny hand was wrapped around her finger loosely and she was afraid that the baby would let go._

_“You’re done staring at that thing yet, are you?” Savos Aren asked with his eyes still glued to his paperwork on his desk._

_Venus smiled. “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. How could anyone look away?” She kissed the warm forehead of the child and continued to rock it._

_Savos Aren’s yellow eyes strained to see the small thing, giving it a skeptical look. “Rather pink for my tastes.”_

_“Oh, hush, old friend,” Venus rolled her eyes walking over to his desk to show off her prized possession, “I’ve never had a Nord before. I can just imagine her running off into battle with sword in hand, visions of Sovngarde to guide her.” She let out a deep sigh._

_The dark elf’s eyes flickered up to woman on his desk as he drummed his finger on the letter he was currently writing. She of course didn’t notice his stare, just kept gazing into the tiny pink human sleeping face. “You still have yet to tell me where she came from. I hope you didn’t steal her from a window.”_

_“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, “I met a son of a Nord nobleman last year. I gave him love and adventure and he, well, gave me the greatest treasure of all.”_

_“Sanity?”_

_“I ran off when I found out I was with child. Divines knows what happened last time I stuck around,” Venus explained, “But the birth was beautiful and flawless. And she’s been a wonder to travel with. So quiet… and she loves to look at the sky.”_

_Savos Aren raised an eyebrow. “So you intend to keep it with you the rest of your days?”_

_Venus repeated her deep sigh. “I know I can’t keep her… but I loved her from the second I laid eyes on her.”_

_“I hope you didn’t expect to dump her here,” the elf said stiffly, “We’re a college, not an orphanage.”_

_“Of course not. Look at her, she’s no mage.”_

_Savos Aren stopped drumming his fingers. He looked at the child once again and crossed his arms. “She could be a mage if she wanted to. Who are you to stop her?”_

_Venus’s eyes left her daughter for a split second to give a lazy smile to the arch-mage, then she went right back to child. “I already know what she’s going to be like.”_

_He waited for her explanation._

_“I leave in the morn to travel back to the Reach to leave her with her father,” Venus replied instead, “She’ll be his gift from me— a freedom from the prison he lives in.”_

_Savos Aren said nothing at first, creating a silence between them, only the sounds of the baby’s breathing humming through the air. After a minute he said with soft eyes, “She’s welcome here as well.”_

_The Imperial woman paced around the office with her lips upon her daughter’s forehead. Just loud enough for Savos Aren’s pointy ears to hear, she whispered to her baby; “You’re going to be one of the greatest things this world has ever seen. I hope and fear that you’ll walk down the same path I did. You’ll fall in love over and over again, you’ll meet your greatest allies, friends, and enemies. You’ll succumb to fear, hatred, and anger and do things you’ll either regret or play back again in your mind with the same fire in your veins. You will see wonders that will make your heart sore and you’ll sprout wings and live freer than any bird. You are going to make mistakes and see horrors that you cannot unsee even when you close your eyes. You will learn the wonders of the world and those wonders will guide you to places you never thought fathomable. You will be feared and respected and greatest of all— you will be loved. You_ are _loved, more than you could ever imagine. No matter what you do, no matter where you go, no matter what you see, you are loved, my child. You are loved.”_

_After she said her words of wisdom, Venus held the child to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut and she rocked back and forth with her._

_Savos Aren watched her. “What will you name her?”_

_Venus pulled the child from her chest to gaze upon her once more. “Aida. Her name is Aida.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! 
> 
> Another disclaimer: I do not own any of the Elder Scrolls names or content, except for my own interpretation and my own character (and various others).


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